Dapper gentleman? Check. Gorgeous lady? Check. Sexual frustration? Check — Shall We Kiss contains all the elements of classic French farce
Can a kiss mean absolutely nothing? That’s the question that director-writer-actor Emmanuel Mouret explores in Shall We Kiss, a very French take on the standard, fluffy romantic comedy. The film’s plot is a story-within-a-story, framed by an encounter between Emilie (Julie Gayet) and Gabriel (Michael Cohen), a pair of impossibly chic strangers who run into each other on the street and end up sharing dinner. Both are already in relationships, but after enjoying each other’s company, Gabriel tries to cap the evening off with an innocent good-night kiss. Emilie refuses, saying that she would very much like to kiss him, but that she does not believe that a kiss can be without consequence.
To ease the pain of rejection, Emilie launches into a story about a friend of a friend who learned this lesson the hard way, thus bringing us to the actual meat of the film. She tells Gabriel (and the audience) of Judith (Virginie Ledoyen) and Nicolas (Mouret), a pair of platonic best friends. Judith is married to the hunky pharmacist Claudio (Stefano Accorsi) and Nicolas has just ended a relationship. Feeling sexually restless, Nicolas pleads with his friend to have sex with him, just to take the edge off. She agrees, the two can’t get enough of each other, and awkwardness and heartbreak ensues.
If Shall We Kiss was a Hollywood production, it would undoubtedly be filled with Three’s Company-style misunderstandings and moments of hilarity (if a movie about adultery can, in fact, be hilarious). Mouret’s script is funny, but in a very measured and quirky way. Judith and Nicolas are very methodical in their affair — the humour lies in their lack of passion, not in their inability to control themselves. While audiences may find themselves chuckling throughout the movie, they’ll also be asking why these people are behaving in such a reckless but detached way.
While Shall We Kiss does lack depth, the structure of the film makes it read like a gentle fable, which almost excuses its naïve frothiness. And it looks gorgeous — no one wears fussy clothes and smokes cigarettes like the French, and Mouret has assembled a particularly attractive cast. This one won’t enrich your life, but compared to American fare like He’s Just Not That Into You or the Sex and the City movie, it’s a sophisticated and worthwhile diversion.
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